


A sense of normalcy

by jammies



Category: South Park
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammies/pseuds/jammies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was normal for me until it wasn’t.</p><p>That’s a weird way to put things I know, believe me I know weird when I see it, I’m the epitome of the word. The origins maybe, it all depends on how you look at it, well to me anyway. At some point in my life I was normal or what the little town I lived in dubbed as a normality of sorts. There were stranger people, believe me.</p><p>My name is Tweek Tweak, and this is my story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everything was normal for me until it wasn’t.

That’s a weird way to put things I know, believe me I know weird when I see it, I’m the epitome of the word. The origins maybe, it all depends on how you look at it, well to me anyway. At some point in my life I was normal or what the little town I lived in dubbed as a normality of sorts. There were stranger people, believe me.

I had always been a bit of a skittish kid, so hyped up on caffine I didn’t even know what I was thinking half of the time. Despite that fact I was smart, meaning in the books. Most of the time I was pretty gullible to things on the news or stuff that people would tell me (i.e. Eric Cartman). Sometimes I even got myself in schemes that I really didn’t want to be included in like the Free Hat fiasco. But let’s not dwell too far into the past.

We’ll start at the very beginning of my very forseeable ending.

It all started in freshman year of highschool when my parents had decided that I didn’t need to go see my therapist anymore. So I was set with a bottle of pills to keep me happy and anxiety free, which was a bust in the first place because stuff like that never worked when you were caffine blooded and hyped more than the average coke addict.

But this is all trivial.

I’m going to get to the real details here, I’ll tell it piece by piece so sit the fuck down, relax, and get ready for a story kids.

It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining down through my window as I sat at my computer, scrolling through pictures on tumblr like I assume most teenagers were doing at this time. There was a small knock on my door and I swiveled around in my chair, looking to see my mom peeking in with a frown on her face. 

“Tweek, sweetheart are you ready for school? It’s about time you got going.” 

I took a quick look down at the outfit I was wearing, just a big green sweater without any buttons (I had learned about half way through middle school that stuff like not being able to button your own shirt just wasn’t going to cut it in society) and some dark blue jeans.

Good enough. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

That was her que to leave, and she took it when it was given. My mother, for some reason had started to part from me mentally. I don’t know what it was, but sometimes when I would just be sitting there, I could see her looking at me. It was strange because she just looked concerned and I had no idea what.

Stuff like that frustrated me more than anything.

I felt like my mother hated me because of those looks, and I didn’t like thinking things of the sort.

Pushing up the sleeve of my jacket I revealed a small rubber band, tugging it back and snapping it just hard enough to give me a little pinch. When I was still going to my therapist he told me all the time that if I was having thoughts that made me upset to just snap a rubber band. There were no wounds inflicting and I just felt like a scolded dog more than anything but whatever would work I would use.

Now here I must pause to remind you that this was not the problem that had plagued me and turned me in to someone I wasn’t, or maybe I had always been that way and I just was mistaking it for thoughts of my own.

It was this day, that I heard a voice in my own head that was not mine. Of course, most people would think that it was just their conscience. You know what that is right? The thing that tells you right from wrong or something along those lines. Well I didn’t, I was too much of a paranoid mess already not to know that the voice in my head was not one of my own, and what was worse that it didn’t even try to take the voice of anyone familiar.

Maybe then I wouldn’t have felt the way I did.

Later on I had been at school, sitting with Clyde, Token, and Craig, my usual group. Ever since middle school when Craig and I had our huge falling out it had felt more awkward than anything to sit with them at lunch still. I wouldn’t have done it had Clyde not gone all puppy dog eyed on me and practically begged me to sit there because I was his bench buddy because Craig apparently liked Token better. It was always hard to say no to Clyde.

See once upon a time we had all been good friends, from elementary school after Craig and I’s fight and ending in middle school with yet another fight. Apparently I was really annoying to Craig and he tried to break off our friendship, so I tried to break his face. 

Metaphorically speaking of course.

You can’t break an entire face with just your fist, at least not in the short time I had in which I only broke his nose and busted his lip.

That’s all besides the point, sorry, I’m a bit scatter brained.

Clyde was sitting beside me at the lunch table, chattering to his two best friends about how he was getting some new game for the Xbox or something when I spotted Craig glancing over at me with this disdainful look.

My lips parted to tell him to fuck off, but before I could get it out, it was like something clicked in my head. A voice that wasn’t my own, whispering to me. It wasn’t in my head, oh no. It felt like there was someone beside me, their breath was on my ear and I could hear them whispering things to me.

_Hit him. Hurt him. How dare you let him look at us like that._

Look at us. Plural. 

“What?” 

The words slipped my lips before I had managed to catch myself. Everyone looked at me and Clyde let out an exhasperated sigh, reaching over to pat me on the back. “Tweek, I said it like four times, this game is the shit-” On and on he went, and I just stared to my left.

There was something there, something that I wasn’t seeing and now the breath was on my face. Everything felt warped, like there was a wall dividing me from the thing that had spoken. 

Maybe I was imagining things.

I was just really pissed off that Craig was still being an ass after all that time.

Yeah, that had to have been it.

So that night when I went home, and was getting undressed for my shower, I had stopped myself. My sweater had been stripped, and my pants, leaving me in some green plaid boxers. Leaning forward, I placed my hands on the edge of the sink and looked at myself in the mirror, examing every inch of visible skin.

This was a usual thing for me, sometimes I just liked to look at the oddity that was myself. The eyes that were slightly too large, thick blond lashes framing them, blond eyebrows. My torso was long and feline, my bones very prominent, especially my collarbones and hips. It’s not that I was too thin, I was just lean. 

Nothing was wrong.

_What’s this, Tweek?_

My breath stopped, there it was again, the voice. There was a distinct brush against my stomach and I slowly wrapped my arms around myself, eyes darting around. 

“It’s just a breeze Tweek. Stop worrying you don’t need anymore stress.” Letting go of myself I reached up and patted my cheeks, pulling at them to make funny faces in hopes that it would make me stop worrying. Funny faces tended to do that.

_Don’t ignore me, I’m here to help you._

“Oh fuck.” I breathed, ceasing my faces and rubbing at my arms. It was time to humor this, whatever it was it was probably something I could just take another pill for. I had learned to live with the fact that I would end up with more problems. “…Help me with what?”

_Help you ruin the people who make us angry. You won’t be alone with me, Tweekers. I’ll be your friend._

“My friend? But I already have friends.” I swallowed hard, giving the rubber band a snap, biting at my bottom lip. There was breath on my ear again, and I could swear I could see my hair move in the mirror. 

It was silent for a bit before a low growl startled me,  _no one cares for the freak._


	2. Chapter 2

It was at this point I realized that the person in the mirror wasn't me anymore. Licking my lips I stepped closer, only to see that my reflection wasn't doing the same, it was just looking at me with a smirk plastered to its cracked and bleeding lips. A quick check told me that my lips themselves weren't bleeding. Which meant that my eyes were playing tricks on me to the worst degree. This wasn't something normal people experienced, at least to my knowledge.

Anyone who said this wouldn't freak them out is a dirty rotten liar.

_Tweek I need you to trust me, it's for our own good._

_  
_The lips of this thing moved, and I found myself watching in paralyzed horror. This was slowly turning into something different, the eyes that had mirrored mine just a moment ago had gone black and his nose dribbled blood as he talked. There were claw marks in its arms and the nails on its fingers were bleeding. Was this really me? Was this what my mother saw in the mornings when she came to get me ready for school? This monstrous version of me or was I the only one.

_You know, responding would be nice, or are you too stupid to even do that?_

_  
_"I'm not stupid." I muttered under my breath, fingers flexing. "And you're not real. So just leave me alone, you're in my head or something and I need to take my medication." The thing laughed, a clear ringing laugh that echoed in my ears and made me cringe. It sounded like they were gurgling nails and the sound was making me just a bit nauseas  Before it could say anything I turned away from the mirror and stripped from the rest of my clothes. No amount of curiosity in the world could make me look at the thing in the mirror that was copying me when I was bare. Who knew what kind of horrors I would end up witnessing, and I just didn't need that image in my head.

Climbing into the shower I pulled the knob for the water, hissing at the first hit of freezing cold water but enjoying the distraction it gave me for the time being. Of course, that was short lived, my thoughts were back to what I had just witnessed. There would be no more looking into mirrors for me, or sleep for that matter. Not that I got too much anyway, but at least I had been getting enough sleep before this to get rid of the bags under my eyes. Guess that was coming back.

That and visits to my therapist.

I would really need someone to talk to if this continued.

_Disappointment._

_  
_Well fuck.

So obviously there was no escaping its horrible voice, and what's worse is I could feel it breathing on me still, it's hot breath on my ear as I tried to shower. As anyone could imagine it was the most uncomfortable thing to experience. I knew what it looked like, it was my sick twisted double and even if I couldn't see it, I knew that it was there. Rushing my shower as quick as I could I jumped out, wrapped a towel around my waist and kept my eyes glued to the ground as I went back into my room.

Hastily I pulled my clothes on, a pair of blue jeans and a green sweater. There was not a way in hell I was going to even attempt to fix my hair and make myself look decent for the outside world. Not when I knew that if I looked into the mirror I would see that thing again. It didn't help that in my plan to escape I had failed to notice the full length mirror on the back of my door where the image of myself showed back to me. In the mirror I saw this time the two of us. 

The thing was leaning over my shoulder and I could see it was slightly taller, it's chin resting perfectly there as its nasty bloody hands took place on my waist. I could feel the pressure of the hands and it's chin but when I looked down there was no signs of anything, not even blood spotting from its hands and when I looked around there was no one behind me. 

_Why did you leave me back there Tweekers, you know that you can't really make me go away. I've always been here._

_  
_"No." I snapped, this was crazy, I was crazy. Stepping forward I punched the mirror right where the other me's face was and the glass gave beneath my hand, shattering and piercing me but I didn't care. Even when I heard it laughing at least I couldn't see it anymore. With that I ripped the mirror off my wall and stomped on it hard, more glass breaking and lodging itself in my foot. For the moment there was no longer a voice and I couldn't hear that gurgling breath in my ear. My back bumped the wall, I hadn't even noticed I had been moving, and I slid down as a I heard the pounding of feet coming up the stairs.

"Tweek? Tweek darling are you alright?" The door opened and in the doorway stood my mother with her Tweak Bro's apron on, still tying it behind her back when she had entered, but now her hands were over her mouth as she knelt down in front of me. "Oh my baby what happened?" My eyes flicked to the mirror and she looked back for a moment before reaching out a hand to run through my hair, pushing my wet bangs from my eyes. "Oh honey I thought this was over... We thought you were all better, you were doing so good."

Oh god she was crying. 

The sight of my mother crying was the most heart wrenching thing because tears shouldn't have to stain a face as beautiful as hers. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun that she just made work and her skin was so pale and delicate looking. I really loved my mom, she was one of the reasons I  _was_ getting better in the first place. The more time I spent with her the more time I didn't have to spend worrying about myself and I took it upon myself to do things for her.

But now here I was making her cry and that was not a good thing at all.

My hands rose to wipe the tears from her face as I kept muttering, "it's okay mommy", and, "mommy please don't cry". It didn't work though because every time I would wipe her face a streak of blood would take the place of the tear. I was a mess, and I was making my mother worse. She didn't want to look like that though, I knew it when I saw in her eyes the sorrow but the tightness in her lips said that even though she was upset that everything was going back to how it was she had to help me out.

That was the downfall of being me, I could never be independent  I would always need someone to help me out. 

Sniffing one last time she grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from her face and standing up, tugging me along as gently as she could, "it's okay baby, mommy's fine, I'm just worrying about my little boy okay? Let's get you all cleaned up." The first place she led me into was the bathroom and I cast a nervous glance to the mirror to see that there was no evil me there anymore, just my mom looking as concerned as ever as she made me sit on the edge of the tub and knelt down to find some bandages and stuff to clean off my hands and feet. 

Carefully she grabbed my feet, and wielding a pair of tweezers she removed any glass that was stuck in my foot before pouring the hydrogen peroxide on it, making me whine and clench my fists. Next came the bandaging, which wasn't as bad, but I had to do the peroxide part again on my hand and that hurt worse than my foot. I had really hit the mirror hard.

After I was all patched up my mom and I just sat there, she had my bandaged hand cradled gently between both of her hands and she was watching my face. I could see it out of the corner of my eye but I didn't want to look at her. She was judging me, upset with me that I had ruined the progress that I had been making. If there were really any signs of progress to begin with. She took a deep breath and then stood to wash her hands, her back to me now as she put everything away and cleared her throat.

"Are you going to tell me why you broke the mirror?" Our eyes met in the mirror and I bit down on my bottom lip, looking down at my hands. I knew that if I told her she would believe me, most of the things I told her she believed but this was something I didn't want to discuss with my parents. Maybe...

_Don't do it._

There it was again, the voice, it was right at my ear and in the mirror I could see it sitting next to me, it's grubby hands on my shoulders and massaging as if it was trying to be comforting.  _If you do it, I'll make your mother suffer. What she doesn't know won't hurt her right?_  I swallowed hard, I wanted so bad to just say something, anything because this was horrifying me. My fingers itched to snap at the band on my arm, that maybe it would get me to talk but I didn't and what came out was a lie. A dirty lie that she would believe because my mom trusted my every word.

"I didn't like looking at myself so I... I broke the mirror."

It was the dumbest excuse I could ever think of, but she believed me completely and turned on her heel to cradle my face, a gentle smile on her face. "You are a wonderful boy Tweek, you are so handsome and I'm not just saying that because I'm a mom. I've heard some of the girls who come into the shop talking about you darling just..." She took a deep breath and brushed her thumb along my jawline with sigh, "don't think any different darling okay. If you're sure that's all we don't have to go to the doctor but promise me that's all it is."

The hands of the other me squeezed at my shoulders and I realized then I was crying, I choked down a sob and nodded to her. "I-I promise mommy."

"Alright", she breathed, dropping her hands from my face and running her hand through my hair once more. "Now where were you going? I can drive you there? I'll even get you a cup of coffee on the way." Even though the thing was still there I couldn't help the smile on my face. Coffee always had a way of perking me up, even in the worst of situations, and this just happened to be one of them. Speaking of... 

I dared a look at the mirror to see that it wasn't there anymore and I let out a sigh of relief, reaching up with my unbandaged hand to wipe the tears that had stained my cheeks. "O-Okay that sounds good. I was going to town to shop a bit." Standing up I walked from the bathroom into my room to grab the wallet, looking down at the broken mirror and my mom waved it off, "I'll clean it after I drop you off alright? Don't you worry yourself about it."

I grabbed my wallet off of my desk and nodded, shoving it into my pocket. 

She told me not to worry about it, but what was there not to worry about in all of this?

_Everything._


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing I did when I got into town was throw away the cup of coffee that my mom had gotten me on the way into town. Made perfectly as usual with her skillful hands. Sadly, there was no way that I could drink it after hearing that thing in my ear all the way into town. I felt really bad because she had actually taken time out of her night at work just to take care of her messed up son, and I didn't even have enough courtesy to try and finish the coffee she had made for me. At least I only threw it out when I knew she wasn't in sight anymore.

Oh well, forget about the coffee, that wasn't really what I was doing in town. I had much bigger things to take care of. My main goal at the moment was to get to the little drugstore not that far into town, and I was rushing my ass to get there. The thing was whispering in my ear, things like how I was a disappointment and that I was useless. It was all freaking me out, I didn't want to hear these things because I knew that I would believe it.

I was very subject to words like that.

Words were my enemy.

In the drugstore I made it quick to get a small bag of colored rubber bands, practically throwing them at the cashier. The old lady behind the counter looked miffed but I could care less. All I wanted to do was put them on so I could set up my more exact form of discipline. Even before I had them I had been making note of what I wanted while in the car. I purchased a bag of colored rubber bands. Each one had a different purpose but the most important ones were:

Red: Whenever I had thought's about harming others.

Green: Whenever I heard the word disappointment.

Blue: For when I felt like really harming myself.

Orange: Seeing the monster

There were of course a few more colors like purple, and black, some normal colored ones and they all had meaning too but those I felt were the most important. Those I would be using much more than anything. Behind the counter she rang it up, finally, and handed me back the small pack which I proceeded to tear open right in front of her, before turning on my heel and booking it for the door to the store. I needed somewhere to sit so that I could arrange these just right.

Exiting the small store I made my way towards Stark Pond, feet crunching in the snow. A bench was there, nestled between some of the snow capped trees and I sat down, ignoring all of the other teens out on the ice, laughing and having a good time. This needed to be done.

By the end of my panic there was a handful of each color on my right arm and I was snapping at each as things happened. Apparently, the bad me's favorite thing to call me was a disappointment. It scared me more than anything because I had a tendency to believe things that people told me, that just happened to be one of the words I hated to be associated with most.

Mainly because it was how I felt all the time.

Biting at my bottom lip I snapped at the rubber bands, going through the green bands in a system, starting closer to my wrist and then going up. There was going to be angry lines later I knew, and this wasn't working as good as I wanted it to but it was better than nothing. As my hand worked on the bands my eyes were on the kids skating around on the pond with smiles on their faces, looking like they were having the time of their lives. I wished I could be out there, enjoying myself, but for one I was always afraid to fall through the ice and two hallucinating while being afraid of that would make it worse.

Although maybe if I had a real shock like that I could get this thing out of my head. It couldn't be that bad right? I had heard before that the freezing cold water would put me into shock or something like that, maybe my body would seize up and I wouldn't feel a thing.

Maybe I would die so I wouldn't trouble anyone anymore.

I snapped a blue band hard, wincing.

That got my mind off of it for a moment. Thinking about dying was just the same as thinking about harming myself. I thought I had been over things like that but apparently this thing was driving me up the walls and it had only been around for a day. Showed how much my condition could decline. Too bad I was a mess to begin with.

_Tweek._

There was no way I could handle it snapping again, and even though this color was only if I saw the thing I found myself snapping the orange band over and over again, going up the line and then restarting. It felt like I was bleeding and it stung but I didn't have the guts to check, not after seeing the blood from earlier on my knuckles and my feet. Usually I couldn't stomach the sight of it.

_Tweek._

_Hey Tweek._

"Hey Tweek FUCK you dumbass pay attention to me what are you doing?" I had to clench my jaw to keep myself from screaming at the sound of an entirely new voice in my ear. I yanked down my jacket sleeve and turned on the bench to see Thomas leaning over the back of it and looking at me, an eyebrow arched in question. My breath came out shakily and I wrapped my arms around myself, gripping the sides of my sweater tightly. "Are you going to SHIT answer me, because I've been calling you for like the past ten minutes idiot." Of course I probably hadn't been sitting there that long but my best friend could be a little bit over dramatic.

That's right I said best friend. See even though I hung around Clyde and everyone a lot ( despite the fact that my old best friend in that group hated my guys : see Craig Tucker for more info ) I had become very attached to Thomas. There was just something how he was also a skinny blond boy who had issues. We became friends when we were put in the same help group because my parents thought my nervous ticks were some form of tourettes when really it was just an effect of over caffeinating a child. At least I got a good friend out of it, even if he is a bit of a jerk sometimes.

Since this is my journal I assume it's safe to go a bit off track so let me explain something.

See Thomas, is a vegan, yes I know social justice people I'm ready for you to attack me and say that I'm a horrible person or something for saying this but honestly, he's just a bit pushy with his beliefs. In example, I myself am I vegetarian and even then Thomas gets onto my case all the time when I'm drinking milk, saying how cruel it is that I could drink it when I knew that cows were being tortured to produce that milk. I just wanted something to put in my cereal so it didn't taste like I was eating cardboard, and lets face it almond milk just doesn't cut it. It never will.

Another thing about Thomas that is a bit out of the water is that as he started to grow up, he grew a bit more confident. Despite having tourettes and feeling like a bother he used it as an advantage, and became super promiscuous. See people actually thought his type of tourettes was entertaining, a lot found it pretty endearing and Thomas learned that he kind of  _loved_ the attention. Sad but true, at least he didn't feel like he was just a burden to his parents anymore.

Of course with all this extra attention, he also found out the joys of sexual encounters that I myself had yet to experience, and oh did he like to tell me about all of his. It even got to a point where he was offering to have sex with  _me,_  because he felt so bad of my unfortunate situation of having yet to get laid.

In short Thomas was a loud ass attention seeker who was my best friend, and hell, I loved the kid despite his issues, even if he was rude he always had good intentions.

Anyway, back to what we were actually talking about.

"Sorry Thomas... I was kind of spacing." Clearing my throat I slowly let go of my sweater and let my hands go to rest in my lap, scooting over so that my friend would have somewhere to sit. It didn't take him long for him to sit, now leaning against my side with his head against my own as we both faced towards Stark Pond, Thomas smiling like a goof and myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek like my teeth were trying to find a way out.

Licking my lips I turned back to my friend, "Is there something you wanted to tell me, cause I sort of wanted some time on my own?" After my question there was silence for another good few minutes, enough time for the thing to start talking and make my hands itch to snap at those bands again. But a quick glance to the side showed that Thomas was looking at me and there was no way to sneak that sort of thing. Taking a deep breath, the other blond moved his head away from my own and turned on the bench to face me, his legs crossed.

"I want to know why you were FUCK doing that thing on your arm. I mean I know you have them for like self discipline or whatever but that looked..." Taking a deep breath he reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking away to the side. In the next moment of silence I took in his appearance, same bags under his eyes as always from lack as sleep, not as much as me but still a lack of sleep, and his clothes were snuggly fitting, probably to get people to look at him. Maybe it was just me, it probably was, but I didn't find that very appealing. He licked his lips before his eyes flicked back and we just sat there staring at me before he cleared his throat. "It looked like you were really hurting yourself there, I just want to know if something is COCK going on you know? I just don't want this to be like last time."

Last time.

Ha that was a laugh.

This felt worse than last time, I just hadn't gotten to that stage yet. That's probably something I could explain later to you nosy readers.

As for Thomas at that moment, he really was genuinely worried for me, and that's what made me love this kid.

My teeth that were once attacking my cheek took place now at my lip, tugging and pulling at the skin until I could taste blood. I didn't know what to say to him, if I told him the truth the thing would probably be angry, and I didn't know if I really wanted to see when it was angry at me. What it could get me to do. On another hand, this was my first day experiencing anything like this, and if I didn't tell someone and I just let it fester I would end up hurting myself or worse, hurting someone close to me.

Someone needed a warning.

"I'm... I'm uh..." My lips felt dry, it physically hurt to speak because I didn't know what this could mean but I had to do it. "Thomas I'm seeing things... Horrible things. I don't know what's happening to me but it's telling me to hurt people, it's saying that it will help get rid of the bad and I feel like if I can't get it to go away I'm going to start l-listening to it... I can't tell my parents either, if I tell my mom the thing said it would hurt her and dad just..." There was this look in his eye, I knew it well, he wanted to tell. It was overwhelming him, he just wanted to hop up and run to my house and tell them everything so that I could get help but I couldn't have him do that, so I reached out and grabbed his arms in my hands, my body quaking.

"T-Thomas please don't tell. Please. I don't want this thing hurting people. Hurting me isn't a problem, I just don't want others getting involved.."

What came from my friends lips sounded like a growl, and I wasn't even sure if it was him then, but I could tell he was upset. A rage was building up inside of him because all he wanted to do was help but Thomas never went against my pleads. He would do anything to keep me happy and if I said I didn't want him telling he wouldn't tell. Thomas was just that kind of person. "God just FUCK Tweek what the hell are you seeing? What has it told you so far? I mean at least tell me."

Tell him? What else could I tell him without making him afraid of me? Without making him want to run and tell even more than he already did. It would take careful consideration. My eyes swept the area, as well as behind myself. There was nobody around, not close enough to hear at least, and maybe Thomas wouldn't think this was so bad since he sort of knew my deal with this person.

Taking a deep breath I looked down at my hands in my lap, the fingers of my left hand picking at my right hand and tearing at the cuticles. Another pair of hands reached out to cover mine and I looked up to Thomas who was giving me a consoling smile. "It uh... The thing told me to hurt Craig. I don't know, I had just looked over at him and caught him glaring and the voice just spoke to me. That was the first thing I had ever heard from it. Telling me to hurt somebody. I mean I know Craig and I aren't on good terms but I've never had thoughts about really hurting him you know? More like I just wanted not to be glared at anymore." Licking his lips, Thomas ran his thumb over the back of my hand and leaned forward to press a kiss to my forehead.

"Tweek, that sounds fucking horrifying BITCH, I mean, maybe you should tell your therapist or something about this. Who knows what could happen because of this thing." Pulling back he leaned his forehead against mine and looked me in the eyes. "I worry about you Tweekers, you're my best friend. I know you're worried about hurting others, but I don't want you to hurt yourself, y'know?"

_How dare you tell someone, you piece of shit._

At that moment it felt like my heart stopped, there had been nothing from the voice the whole time I was talking to Thomas, what was I thinking telling him when I knew that it would just come back to bite me in the ass. "I-I know you do Thomas..." That was all I could say, there was a gurgling scream in my ears and I yanked my hands from Thomas's to claw at them, cover them as if that would keep the noise from getting in. Only trying to stop it made it even worse. The sound got louder, and I couldn't hear anything, I only felt Thomas's hand cover my mouth and his other trying to pry my hands away from my ears.

My eyes darted around frantically, everyone was looking at us and people were rushing over and before I knew it everything went black.

When I came too I was laying in a bed that wasn't mine with someone's fingers running through my hair. Slowly, ever so slowly my eyes cracked open and for a second I saw that horrid double of myself, only for it to transform into Thomas who was sitting over me with a pained expression. He bent down, wrapping his arms around my shoulders tight and letting out a shaky breath. "God damn it Tweek, that scared the hell out of me. You just suddenly started screaming and SHIT passed out. You're not lying about this thing are you?"

Swallowing hard, I shook my head slightly, reaching up to wrap my arms around Thomas in return. He was shaking, and from the sound of it he was crying, and I'm assuming that whatever had happened had really scared the hell out of him. Enough to make him cry, and that made me feel like shit. One day of this thing and I had already made two of the people I loved cry because of something I did.

The worst part was that I knew there was nothing that I could do to fix any of this. This thing in my head was going to plague me until everyone around me as well as myself fell to pieces.


End file.
